Sherlock's Kiss [Fuhua Vampire Colleague]

At the age of 34, it was a very difficult year for John Watson. One of his buddies, an unknown young doctor, went out on his own and opened a clinic that competed with him on the corner of the street.

At first, John Watson didn't think it was a big deal. He didn't realize it until the boy who used to be his assistant disclosed to the newspaper that he operated on a prostitute in private, but the operation failed. seriousness of the situation.

The newspapers were flying all over London, and the reports were lively and fragrant, describing John Watson as a bully who craves the flesh of a prostitute, and describing him as a murderous executioner. This storm swept the entire London For a while, people on the street were reading this report. When John Watson passed by on the street and was recognized by others, it would always cause passers-by to accuse him. He helplessly avoided these outrageous and unreasonable quarrels and clamors. , Before this sudden disaster, there was often a long queue at the door of John Watson's clinic, and his appointment could usually be arranged two or three months later, but every day, those who came to seek medical consultation The number of patients became less and less, and the regular customers gradually abandoned him. After another year, the clinic finally had to dismiss all the nurses and temporarily closed down. John Watson hid at home for two months, doing nothing. I found myself no longer interested in this kind of life.

There were times when he felt that his life was over, and the thought drove him into a rage, and there were many, many things he had never done, but it was undeniable that he couldn't move an inch.

Gradually, the family's attitude towards him also changed.After the report came out, his father always looked at him with disappointment. He was no longer as proud of John Watson as before, and his tone of speech was different from before, always with reproach.

John Watson lost his temper one day. He and his father had a quarrel in the living room. The quarrel was blushing and thick-necked, and the neighbor could hear it. His mother and grandma sat in the dining room away from the battlefield, sighing constantly.

John Watson keeps repeating over and over that he can't remember the shit, the man who failed the operation was the damn John Watson, and now he has amnesia, he doesn't know anything about it, he has no reason Accept these charges.

Old Watson said, "The prostitute's madam didn't bring legal action against Scotland Yard, and the reason why you didn't throw you stupid fool into jail is because I settled it with money."

"Go to the fucking prison! I don't care! I will either die or retire in the end. What's the point of continuing this kind of life? I can't even get out of the door now. What's the difference between me and being in jail! You and those tabloid reporters They are exactly the same, rude and savage, you just point your nose and scold me, you don't listen to my explanation at all!"

"What's there to explain? You made a mistake! You can't stop the bleeding! You shouldn't have operated on a prostitute who was suffering from venereal disease and hemangioma in the first place. She was a poor man with malnutrition. , her physique can't handle major surgery! Performing surgery on her is simply destroying her future! You should shut her out, son, let me ask you, have you ever prostituted her? That's why you can't Keep her out?"

John Watson glared at his father, "I don't fucking know! I don't even know if I fucked her! She's dead, can you respect her?"

"Respect her? Don't even think about who killed her? Don't think about who secretly dug a hole in the cemetery to bury her in!"

John Watson gritted his teeth and said word by word, "I, no, yes, kill her."

"You're gone, your reputation can't be saved, I gave you this clinic for nothing."

John Watson looked at his father for a long, long time, then he said nothing, turned around, and walked out on crutches.

"You will only get rotten eggs when you go out, John, how old are you, don't be like a brat, and run out whenever you quarrel." Old Watson stood at the door of the house, trying to call him home, but John Watson shook his head. He walked forward without looking back, he just wanted to find a place to breathe!

As night fell, John Watson walked along the Thames, he sighed in the cold air, and played with the golden key he hung around his neck in his hand. He remembered the time he passed out at a dinner party many years ago, Think of those bloody hands that appeared on top of the train.

His heart was so disturbed that there was no one to talk to.

The only thing that didn't betray him was this rattan cane in his hand. John Watson stood on the bank overlooking the dirty river. In his opinion, it seemed that the whole river was dying, and he finally , will be like this river, and then gradually move away from the world. He feels that if he continues to entangle with nightmares every night, he will go crazy sooner or later. It has been 13 years, and he has lost his memory for a full 13 years. In the past 13 years, he has never had a day Had a really good time.

In his lifetime, he has spent countless dark nights and long days, but he still can't be sure whether he really has a destination.

He was walking through a messy wharf, crowded with ships, huge, proud steamers belching steam, their stout decks piled high with cargo boxes, and John Watson strolled along the wharf, feeling weary.

There was a ship unloading, John Watson looked up, and suddenly someone greeted him.

The voice sounded very friendly, "Doctor Watson, what a coincidence, you never come to the pier, why are you here today?"

John Watson turned his head, and it turned out to be Lestrade. His clothes were still gorgeous, and people couldn't help but look at him more than ten or twenty times. God's strength, every strand of his hair looks delicate and beautiful, John Watson frowned, when he said he was an old acquaintance of John Watson a few years ago, he looked about 35 years old, more than John Watson was old, but his pale face was without a single line, and years later he was still the same, with a face that had not changed.

Now John Watson looks his age.

"Lestrade? What are you doing here?"

"Unloading, I have brought in a batch of wine from the winery, and I am about to load it into the car. When food is scarce, I come here once a month. This wine helps to relieve hunger."

"Drinking can satisfy satiety?" John Watson asked suspiciously.

Lestrade didn't answer directly, he changed the subject briskly, "I just met you today, you look sad, is it because of your closed clinic?"

John Watson folded his arms on his chest, with a cane under his armpits. He was wearing a thin black sweater. He was too hasty to put on his coat, which made him look thin and cold. He stood on the shoulder of Lestrade. Watching the dock workers unloading cargo, "I can't stay at home anymore."

"Understood." Lestrade said briefly, "Why don't you have dinner with us? You haven't visited our humble house for two months. My master misses you very much."

John Watson sneered, "He's not thinking of me, he's thinking of a certain dialogue that is missing from my memory. Unfortunately, I'm still a fool who can't remember anything, and now I'm still messing around."

Lestrade smiled, "If it were me, I wouldn't want to wake you up on purpose. It might not be a good thing for you. I used to be the same person as you. I don't want to look at you for the sake of memories. And suffer, you will get a headache every time you think about it, I have persuaded him to some extent, but he is too obsessed with certain things, he doesn't like this troubled world, he likes the dark city he is obsessed with, and the dark city In the whole world, only his younger brother has a little understanding of the entrance."

John Watson was silent about this. He couldn't imagine what kind of country the Dark City was, and what could make Mycroft so obsessed.

He has accepted the special master-servant relationship between Lestrade and Mycroft. To be honest, he has witnessed the intimacy between the two of them more than once. After so many years, he went to the secret house every week. When visiting, he came out from the corner of the corridor, and sometimes accidentally saw the two of them embracing each other. Most of the time, Mycroft's lips would stay on Lestrade's neck, like There seems to be something very delicious and tasty in there.

John Watson stopped thinking about it when he thought of this.

He agreed to Lestrade's suggestion, anyway, he didn't want to go home, and just got into the carriage when Lestrade told him that they were not going back to the mansion tonight, they were going to Lancaster.

John Watson's mouth was dry suddenly, God knows how fast his heart beat, he felt the stimulation, the blood vessels flowing rapidly in his body, "Lancaster? Where did I crash?"

"Yes, let's go now, and we can arrive before 12 o'clock in the evening."

John Watson sensed that there was something strange ahead of him, even a faint hint of danger, but he didn't want to hide at all. The carriage kept galloping forward, and the sound of horseshoes echoed in the bleak moonlight. Lestrade He didn't talk much, which made the atmosphere very boring. John Watson slowly dozed off. He was awakened by a burst of knocking sound. He opened his eyes and looked out of the dim car window. A flock of black crows that don't sleep at night surrounded the window, very noisy, and the small chirping made John Watson very annoyed. He opened the window, and John Watson looked in surprise, those black bird shadows It's not a crow, it's a small bat one after another, spreading its black wings, and running along with the carriage in the fine smog and dust. Under the alarm of John Watson, a few black bats slipped away quietly , fled into the bushes outside the window, like a group of black leaves swept away by the night wind.

"Did you see that? That's a damn bat!"

Lestrade just smiled faintly after hearing his fuss.

They arrived in Lancaster at 11 o'clock and stopped in front of an ordinary farmhouse. John Watson saw a figure staying in the grass outside. The figure was wearing a cape. From the profile, it was McCaw Loft, he stood in the faint moonlight, John Watson thought, it was already midnight, he might want to take a romantic late-night walk in such cold dew, but how could this strange dress look like that? What happened, the more I thought about it, the more unreasonable it became.

After dismissing the carriage and the coachman, Lestrade threw him in the living room of the farmhouse and turned to go out. John Watson asked him where he was going, but Lestrade just said in a low voice, "Don't worry about it." Well, doctor, the guest room is upstairs, and there is wine and food in the cupboard. We can have dinner together tomorrow night, but I'm going out with Mycroft tonight. You're sleepy after traveling too much .”

After he finished speaking, he went out. John Watson looked out furtively from the window of the house, and found that the outside was completely silent, and there was no one to be found. Lestrade and Mycroft were in an instant As if the smoke had evaporated, John Watson grabbed his rattan cane and walked out the door, looking at the thin starry sky, exhaling white mist between his breaths, it was really cold tonight, he had no coat, shivering from the cold, This kind of temperature is not suitable for walking at all. Why the two of them still have to go on foot is really puzzling.

Just as he was deciding to go back to the house to light the stove, John Watson supported the door frame. He looked back at the distant hillside again. A thick black line was vaguely revealed in the woods. He narrowed his eyes and carefully watched the thumb. Thick black lines, seen from among the dark leaves, no matter how it looks, it looks like a train.

John Watson held his breath for a moment.

He ran back to the house, grabbed a cloak and put it on to keep out the cold, took a kerosene lamp, and stepped heavily into the forest. The bark of the trees was cracked in the dry winter, and the darkness engulfed the path. He held up the oil lamp , the lamp swayed in front of him, the weeds wrapped around his knees, and the cloak was often caught by the hooks on the grass, where wildflowers grew in clumps in full bloom. On Watson's trouser legs, clumps of vines could be seen everywhere on the ground, growing up to the trunk and extending between the branches and leaves. He lowered his head to avoid these dense vines, and a few drops of dew fell into the ground. In his collar, John Watson couldn't help shaking.His vision blurred.

John Watson rubbed his eyes angrily, the blood in his damn brain often blurred his vision when he was emotional, made him feel dizzy, his heart was beating so fast that he couldn't breathe.

The train was quite close to the farmhouse, and within half an hour, he had already reached the rear of the train.

Rust has eaten away the entire black car body, the mottled iron sheet has turned brown, and the peeling surface has left many charred black spots after being burned by the flames. John Watson held the oil lamp in front of his face, because the entire train was taken off The car body leaned and crumbled, looking as if it would collapse on the mud at any moment, vines hung flowers and leaves in every broken window, hanging from the roof, and the rollers of the wheels were all broken. Several huge wheels flew outside, hit the rocks and changed shape, and the wood was covered with wild mushrooms.

The train rests quietly in the forgotten wilderness, and the whole body has almost turned gray and brown. The old iron sheet has undergone too much sun to reveal this dull color. Near a certain section of the door , John Watson saw a small iron plate engraved with words, "London to Edinburgh." John Watson held up a lamp and read the words on it carefully.

The sign is faded and faded, like an old memory. Several letters have disappeared completely, and the paint on it has cracked and peeled off. Beside the overturned train, the mud floor is full of huge broken glass. These glasses are scattered around. It is brown, some are yellowish, and some are black.John Watson must be very careful every time he lifts his feet and lands, so as not to be pierced by a piece of broken glass. He slowly moved forward to the front of the car, but he found that there was no front of the car.

Here is a cliff, the edge of the cliff is gray, and there is no one except John Watson.

He stood on the edge of the cliff, frowning. A broken car head hung outside the cliff. John Watson knelt on the edge of the cliff on one knee, watching the hanging front of the car covered with patches of green spots, spreading in all directions, eating away the soul of the train like cancer cells.

You can vaguely see a layer of dust covering the control instruments in the driver's cab. Every car is like this, dilapidated, the windows are either smashed or missing, and all the gold-plated and silver-plated decorations are all in pieces. Peeled off, turned black, and couldn't reflect anything anymore.

Before John Watson could react, the kerosene lamp in his hand had already fallen to the ground, his throat was clamped, his feet were off the ground, and he was suspended high in the air.

In the shadow of the cloak, Mycroft tightened the windpipe around his neck, and his eyes were scarlet, so scarlet, those beastly eyes that John Watson could hardly recognize him.

His fingernails were so long and hard that they almost sank into the flesh of John Watson's neck.

"You are still the same as before. Wherever it is dangerous, where do you want to go? This is fine. It is better that you are here. It has been 13 years. Maybe you can think of more things standing here."

"Damn it! Let me go! How did I offend you!"

"This is where Sherlock Holmes died, look!" Mycroft slammed him onto the vehicle body, and the iron sheet hit John Watson heavily. The sharp iron sheet injured his arm, and the collision The force sent him bouncing off the body of the car, and he fell forward, the rotting iron sheet disintegrating behind him, and pieces fell, and John Watson fell headlong into the mud below.

Still holding the cane tightly in his hand, he tried his best to stand up, staggering, stumbling like a dizzy drunk.

Mycroft snorted contemptuously, grabbed John Watson's chin again, his pupils were directly reflected on John Watson's face, and the soul-stirring eyes shone with a mind-boggling power, It's frightening.

"Say, where is the entrance to the City of Darkness?"

John Watson felt a burst of pain from his eyes, and the defense line in his heart was about to collapse. He trembled, and said firmly and stubbornly, "I don't know the fuck!"

"I don't have time to spend with you. You won't remember until you die. That's not okay. Look into my eyes, look at me! Tell me everything Sherlock said to you!"

An invisible hand reached into his body and grabbed his soul.

"Look at me, John Watson." Mycroft called him softly, "Look at me."

John Watson couldn't get rid of his sight, his whole body was tense, and suddenly, the surroundings became extremely cold.

It was cold and silent, like the breath of a long-closed tomb, and it was so dark that John Watson couldn't see anything except Mycroft's vague and sinister pupils.

"Damn it, I can't remember anything!" John Watson resisted, he felt that he was falling into a quagmire of illusory dreams, and he tried his best to get out of this drowsy predicament.

Suddenly, Lestrade appeared out of nowhere from the shadows beside him. Lestrade spoke in a soft voice, "Don't push Dr. Watson any more. I don't think he will remember it in his lifetime."

"It's not that easy for me to let him go," Mycroft said. "Let me hypnotize him. Wait a little longer. He's really tenacious, but it's okay. No one can resist my hypnosis," he said softly. Laughing, "He is indeed a very determined little doctor. Sherlock had to put so much effort on the roof of the car to put him to sleep."

John Watson raised his hands to grab his shoulders and threw himself forward, hitting his forehead on the bridge of Mycroft's nose. Mycroft let go and took a step back, a thin stream of blood flowed from He slid down his nasal cavity into his body, he casually licked the bright red blood, exposing the long teeth in his mouth, his hands were like sharp claws in front of him, his eyes were full of murderous intent, but seemed to read With old love, hesitant.

John Watson burrowed into the nearby forest. He ran down the slope leaning on crutches, cursing unceasingly, "What the hell!"

The forest was silent, when suddenly a faint swish came to his ears, the sound of leaves and cloak clashing in the wind, and John Watson turned his head, and Mycroft floated towards him among the leaves. come over.

This fucking scary monster!John Watson yelled in his heart, and flew down a gentle slope. His body fell heavily in the fallen leaves and rolled down. He was hit hard by something on the way. Grabbing at the place, he stopped his body urgently, the tree branch erected in the mud almost pierced his chest, for a while he lay dizzy in the pile of fallen leaves, and it took a long time to get up.

"Don't move, Dr. Watson, stay where you are, and I won't hurt you. Do you understand? I just want to have a heart-to-heart talk with you. I don't want to kill you." Mycroft said quietly He approached him quickly, his footsteps stepping on the fallen leaves without a trace of movement.

John Watson struggled a bit, but he bit his lips tightly in pain, his body was covered with bruises, he was propped on the mud floor, backed up, and looked at him with gritted teeth, "What the hell are you? "

Mycroft lowered his eyes, "I'm a Bloodline."

"What? What the hell are Bloodlines?"

"A creature that feeds on human blood, is immortal, and is at the top of the food chain." Mycroft stretched out his sharp claws, "Before my brother was alive, he protected you in every possible way, and no one could touch you. One finger, but it's different now, if you want to survive, you can only obey me, understand? Why don't you let us find a more comfortable place to sit?"

Mycroft squatted in front of him, stretched out his hand to him, and tempted him, "Come here, let me heal your wounds, I can restore your wounds, I can regenerate you in an instant, and give you countless years, let you become young forever, come here, doctor, you are covered with bruises, it must be very painful, I can relieve your pain, I can even make the hematoma in your brain disappear, these processes are very It's so simple, you are like a dream, and when you wake up, you are different."

His eyes were pitch-black, without a trace of light, getting darker as he went deeper, bottomless, blood-red around the pupils, nothing could be illuminated, as if there was nothing in the pupils, even John Watson's eyes No shadow can be found, his face is pale, pale like a ghost, his clothes are gorgeous, and he has a seductive smile, John Watson seems to be wandering in his pupils, wandering forever, unable to reach the shore, his eyes are hungry And thirsty, it seems to be clamoring for blood, steaming blood.

Once stared at by this kind of eyes, everyone will be completely finished.

John Watson slowly raised his hand in his direction, Mycroft smiled, and was about to catch his hand, his attention was all on John Watson's hand.

The cane flew across the air and hit Mycroft's temple ferociously. The bloody vampire fell to the side, with blood dripping from its forehead. John Watson got up and ran forward with all his strength. He heard The voice of the conversation, drifting in the wind.

"He's so stubborn, you can't completely hypnotize him, Mycocroft, my poor master, he actually wounded you twice." Lestrade's playful tone seemed to be watching the scene, " Let him go, he is your brother's sweetheart after all."

"Stop talking innocuous things over there, don't be a waste of help, and remember who is your master." After Mycroft finished speaking, he rolled up his cloak and chased forward.

John Watson ran out of the forest. He found himself standing on the edge of a dry waterfall river bed. The river bed was dry and hard and split like a spider's web. I accidentally rolled off the bank and fell on the river bed. The clouds became thicker and thicker, the moon disappeared, and the entire dry river bed fell into darkness.

John Watson got up on the edge of the waterfall like a desperately running animal. He staggered forward, fell down and got up again and again, and almost fell to the bottom of the waterfall several times. He climbed up steadily, with desperate courage in his breath. He walked along the steep and narrow bank, but he couldn't run anymore. There was moss under his feet. It felt dark and narrow here, like At the entrance of hell, he held on to the narrower and narrower stones and walked towards the steep end. He didn't know where he was, and he didn't know where he was leading in front of him. The scenery behind him could no longer be seen, John Watson realized When he walked into an underground cave, he raised his head. The top of the cave was covered with thick moss, and there were strangely shaped stalactites hanging on it. His crutches struck the stones, causing hollow echoes.

He moved on.

It was a terrifying night. When John Watson walked inside, he couldn't see anything. He stood hesitantly in the cave. On the slippery stone, with the chilly mist wafting around his body, John Watson was on edge.He saw killing intent in Mycroft's eyes, and he felt that if he ran a little slower, Mycroft would definitely take his life without hesitation.

It was pitch black here, but John Watson still decided to move forward. Later, he could no longer tell the direction in front of him. He felt scared and gasped heavily. He didn't know where he was, and he could only hear the stalactites. With the sound of dripping water above, he felt a burst of cold. John Watson hugged his body and shivered. He somewhat regretted coming here. Regardless of whether there were any monsters waiting for him outside, he felt better than here.

It was dark, cold, and quiet. John Watson stood there for a long time. He turned around and completely lost the correct direction. Sitting down on the hard rock, the rattan cane in his hand disappeared. The rock was slanted, like a slide, and he began to slide down, unable to grasp any protruding things with his hands.

"Damn it!" John Watson screamed and yelled. He was falling down a long, steep, wet and slippery stone road quickly, and he couldn't see anything around him, except for the darkness. There was a whirlwind roll and slide, and John Watson threw himself forward, seeing a pile of coals first.

All around my ears was the sound of mechanical clanging and clanging, and then a huge shovel fell out of nowhere. John Watson was stuck in the coal pile and could not pull himself out. , John Watson was like a tiny flower seedling buried in crushed coal, only the upper body was exposed, the shovel was moving in the sky towering into the clouds, John Watson looked at the big melting furnace in front of him, which was bigger than the imperial palace, and the red flames went to him. He spewed up from above, and the boiling magma splashed out, like a small active volcano, he was going to be poured into this active volcano by a shovel!

The author has something to say:

Some children's shoes are worried that Mo Niang's strength is too great, how can he break it?

First of all, I haven't made up my mind to kill him yet (I owe Mo Niang too much

You can't wait 1000 years for Xiaoxia to become an elder before solving him (it's too late

But there are still children's shoes who have been thinking about Xiaoxia's father, hoping that his father will come out and uphold justice

That's right, Dad really wants to see his wife

I remember seeing someone in a forum saying that Xiaoxia had an original name called "Sheroflynn Holmes"

I changed it to Sherlock because it was too hypocritical, but I forgot how to spell it in English, and I'm not sure if this is true or not

So Dad's name was decided, should take inspiration from Sir Doyle

By the way, it's better to call my father: the famous detective who knows everything - Edogawa!Ke!South!